


Don't Cry for Me

by mochii112



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Modern AU, Other, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:08:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27666562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochii112/pseuds/mochii112
Summary: A short trip to the local grocery store. What could possibly go wrong? All there was to do was step in, buy some groceries, and step out. That was all there was to it.Unfortunately, luck isn't always so kind.Tragedy strikes when it is least expected.
Relationships: Platonic Skephalo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Expressing my love for this little bean by introducing him to angst. I'm genuinely really happy with how this one turned out!

Red. Blue. Black.

Three colours were all that he could see. From somewhere in the distance, the shrill sounds of sirens rang loudly in the cold night air. His mind was a mess, with no coherent memories coming back to him. The world simply ceased to exist.

But then, there was pain. A sharp sensation that started from his abdomen and spread throughout his entire body. His flesh burned up with every breath he inhaled. Confusion was all that he could feel in the vast expanse of his own mind.

_What had happened?_

His eyes slowly fluttered open, though his vision was blurry with a fresh layer of tears. The sirens, which he had thought to be distant, sounded loudly in his ears. Red and blue lights blared brightly in his line of sight, blinding him each time. For a moment, he thought that he had completely gone blind.

Soon, however, he could see a variety of different colours, which slowly began to form shapes. Those shapes began to form objects, and those objects turned into a place.

Bad remembered where he was. He had visited a local grocery store, to run errands for his friends. Like he almost always did, over the weekends. Buying groceries that would have lasted a whole week.

_"Aww, thank you so much, Bad!"_ his roommate had said preemptively, almost shoving the list in his face.

_"W-wait! It's your turn this week!"_

But there was no response. Only footsteps and laughter that quickly grew distant.

He hadn't even said yes, yet they all knew what his answer would have been. There was no way that he could have refused a chance to make them happy...

Bad tried to recall the incident, if only to give himself some closure, or at least a bit of context. He remembered being by the cash register, before hearing something loud enough to rupture eardrums. There was chaos, confusion and a cacophony of panicked screams, before the whole world turned dark. Judging by the series of events that took place in a fraction of a second, as well as the agonising pain that ran through his entire body, he guessed that there had been an explosion.

Ruined walls and shattered glass surrounded him now, further cementing his assumption. Owing to the recent election, there had been a series of riots ringing out throughout the nation; rumours ran rampant that their old leader, Wilbur Soot, had lost his head, and 'Manberg was far from safe. The Festival was a testament to that. Even now, the scent permeated by the remaining gunpowder lingered in the air. Important places had been broken down into the dirt for weeks on end.

_But why a grocery store?_

He could see the faint hints of red glistening ever so slightly in the streetlight, and wondered grimly how many others had fallen victim. Irrespective of who had caused this to happen, the damage had long been done, and he too, had been hurt. Dust settled all around him as he tried to move, only to be met with more pain. He could feel the shrapnel impale his flesh. The ground was cold against his beaten clothes, and the sky was shrouded in darkness. For a moment, he felt alone.

However, just a second later, though not a moment too soon, he could feel warmth. A sudden embrace that forced his form to melt, ever so slightly. He could feel the comfort that he and longed for unknowingly.

_"Bad? Bad! Oh, thank goodness you're okay!"_

The voice almost sounded like an echo, barely audible to his conscience. He felt his body being pulled up, and a moment later, his face was rested against the crook of someone else's neck.

_"I rushed over as soon as I heard… oh God, I shouldn't have sent you here… not today…"_

There was a feeling of familiarity between him and the voice. He must have known the person who was holding him so close now, though nothing was coming back to him. Not yet. Not with everything that had happened. Not with the pain that was clouding his judgement.

_"We were so worried we weren't going to find you… there were so many… so many people who got the brunt of that attack..."_

Bad was immersed completely in the warmth of the other body, and let the rest of the world fade away. His eyelids were heavy, tired and fatigued from the pain and blood loss. Gently, he gripped the hem of the other man's hoodie, almost apologetic of having ruined the bright blue fabric.

It was a vibrant colour, that was now stained by his own appendages. The hue seemed familiar, even in the relative darkness.

_"S-Skeppy..?"_ He murmured, barely above a whisper. The name he had caught in his throat had finally come out, and it was one that he couldn't possibly forget. Skeppy shushed him gently, his head whipping about like a deer in the headlights, almost searching for something. That 'something' being a way to get them both out of this less than ideal situation.

"Don't speak… you… you need to save that energy, alright? Keep breathing for me, while help arrives…"

There was fear in his tone, though the concern was just as evident. His expression was strained, and his mouth was moving. Bad could tell that he was yelling, if only to catch someone's attention. It couldn't be said for certain what he was saying, but it was a lot. Skeppy tightened his grip the louder he yelled, which caused Bad to wince, and the open wounds to be forced shut.

Pain shot through him in large doses, and Skeppy took a moment to notice the disturbance. Once he did, however, he loosened his arms immediately, nearly dropping the boy.

"B-Bad..? Oh God, am- am I hurting you?"

Bad shook his head weakly, an exhausted smile gracing his features ever so slightly. Of course he wasn't. At least, not on purpose. "I'm fine, you muffin head… don't you worry about me…"

His words were muffled in Skeppy's neck, though the soft albeit pained laugh that he got in response was enough to convey to him that he had been heard.

"You're gonna be fine… you're gonna be just fine… I promise…"

His voice was clearer now, no longer clouded by Bad's disoriented mind. Skeppy continued to hold him close, though this time he did so more carefully, and continued to call out to the people who were searching the debris for survivors. Only a second had passed before flashlights were shone down on the two of them. Bad could barely hear as his friend shouted for assistance, his throat slowly turning raw. Light footsteps turned loud, and Bad stirred ever so slightly, feeling so afraid.

The pain settled with dread and mixed in the pits of his stomach. He felt lightheaded and weak. His body hurt less when he didn't move.

The reality of the situation was finally dawning upon him, and he was afraid of the realisation that he might not make it. Blood continued to curdle down underneath him, even as the other man tried his absolute best to stop the bleeding with the sleeves of his clothes.

Skeppy caught onto the fear, and held his hand, before squeezing it gently. "It's alright, okay? They're just here to help…"

"W-what's going to happen..?" Bad whispered weakly, his body being lifted and torn away from his only source of comfort. His wounds opened up again, and the cold air stung against his exposed flesh. "S-Skeppy-"

"Shhh…" he whispered softly in response. "Just focus on me, okay? Focus on my voice." He spoke quietly, in a comforting manner. "Please… Ignore the medics… you're fine, you're safe… stay with me… just focus on me…"

His voice and whispers almost sounded like the melody of a lullaby to Bad, who felt himself beginning to slip, though not literally. The paramedics were extremely cautious as they handled his body, and he could hear Skeppy close by. He wasn't slipping out of their grip. He was slipping from reality.

_"Skeppy…"_ he murmured helplessly, hand outstretched and reaching out for his friend. _"Please don't leave me…"_

A distance had been created between the two; one that Bad couldn't even _hope_ to close. He could see now that the fabric of his friend's hoodie had been completely stained red, owing to his injuries, and silently wished that he had the strength to apologise. The blood surely couldn't have been something easy to clean off.

So, he wanted to promise to wash it when they got home. Not even a week's worth of laundry would have fazed him anymore. He wanted to promise his best friend in the world that he would make it up to him, and thank him for everything that he had done for him that night. The warmth, the comfort, the concern. He wanted to make up for it all. There was so much that he wanted to do, and so much that he wanted to promise.

But right now, he couldn't even promise to survive.

Skeppy rushed to hold his hand, even as he was being placed in a stretcher and carried to the nearest ambulance. His grip was gentle. Cautious, yet respectful. Hopeful, but desperate. Where things headed from here on out was out of their hands. The only thing carrying them now was _hope._

Bad _hoped_ that he would survive. But a feeling in the back of his mind told him otherwise.

_"Skeppy…"_ he whispered, so soft that even he could barely hear it. "please stay strong…"

"Bad…" Skeppy laughed out, uneasy and breathless. "Don't say stuff like that… you're going to be just fine! You're going to be just fine… just stay with me..."

Silence followed his words, save for the heaving medics and the sounds of shoes colliding with rubble. Sobs and sniffles echoed in the still night air. 

Bad trusted Skeppy, and he did so with all his heart. He didn't doubt his words for a moment, and there was nothing but truth in what he spoke. But as the spots in his vision began to grow larger with every passing second, he knew that he was wrong. He knew that he wouldn't be fine, and he wouldn't be able to stay any longer. Not like this.

_"Skeppy…"_ he whispered once again, though this time he got no response.

_"Please…"_ his waning conscience could no longer muster up the strength to speak. His grip loosened completely, and his breath fell short. A final thought crossed his mind, as his eyes fluttered shut for the final time.

_"Don't cry for me…"_


	2. To Shed No Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a week, but the pain is yet to stop.
> 
> Is the universe more cruel to the lives that it claims? Or the ones that get left behind?
> 
> At least this time, there were friends to help him through the pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't supposed to have a part 2, but I wanted to end this story on a more hopeful note.

_"Aww, thank you so much, Bad!"_ he had said preemptively, almost shoving the list in his face.

_"W-wait! It's your turn this week!"_

But he didn't respond. Barely, he caught the words.

_"Ugh, whatever. Anything for you, you little muffin...'_

Who could have known that that conversation would haunt him for the rest of his days?

Skeppy recalled the conversation. Repeatedly. A sick, unsettling feeling had made itself at home in his chest. He couldn't convince himself that everything was alright, no matter how hard he tried. Something told him that something bad had happened; like an intuition, or a sixth sense. But surely, it was misguided.

Right now, he was laid comfortably on his couch, waiting for Bad to return. It was late, and he was starting to get worried. Darkness had fallen on the city, and the first streetlights had come to life. His eyes wandered between the TV screen and the front door. Patiently, he awaited the ring of the doorbell, a chime so awfully familiar that it had started to make him sick, or the click of the door handle slowly turning towards his right, easily giving away the arrival of his roommate.

At first, Skeppy was annoyed. Bad should have been home for a while by then, and he _did_ need those groceries. Changing positions rapid and repeatedly, he had even come up with a speech that he knew he would force Bad to sit through. One filled with feigned emotion, and mild annoyance. But slowly, seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned into hours. All he had left in his chest was worry. The thought that Bad was fine had begun to die out.

His hand gripped the remote tightly, and with an exasperated sigh, he began to switch through the channels. Maybe time would pass faster that way.

There were many channels on TV; game shows. Kid's cartoons. Cooking shows. And a variety of documentaries that were airing that night.

But in the end, what caught his eye was a _news_ channel.

Skeppy had a finger hovering over the button to skip ahead. But he couldn't put it down in time. On screen now was a wreckage, made up entirely of broken walls and a raging fire. The smoke was ascending up into the sky, casting a grey hue upon the vast expanse of darkness.

But that wasn't _all_ that caught his eye.

There was one more thing that made his blood run cold. And it was the fact that he _recognised_ this place. A grocery store that was far too close to home.

 _"We are still searching for survivors."_ said the news reporter. _"There are paramedics on site, as well as the police. The rescue team is trying their best, but this is only one of many sites that were blown up today, and rescuers have been divided accordingly. It is unlikely that our efforts will bear fruit."_

Skeppy didn't stay to listen to the reports. Without a second thought, he rushed out of the apartment and ran as fast as he could, to the only other place where Bad could be now.

Somewhere underneath the wreckage, in desperate need for help.  
.  
.  
.

_"Don't cry for me"_

It was the last that he ever heard of him. It was the last that _anyone_ would have ever heard of him. After all, those were his parting words, before his voice fell silent. Forever.

Now, the house felt cold. Large. _Empty_.

Everything about this place now attested to the lack of a second body to occupy it; the couch was still big enough for two, the dining table had two seats and the apartment had two bedrooms. Bad's stuff still laid around, which only brought him more pain. None of that has _changed_.

It was the sad truth of the world; even if you are in an absolute state of despair, the universe is quick to move on. Nothing in the world would allow him the space to grieve. Even when so much happens, nothing was going to change.

Silently, Skeppy wrapped his arms around his curled up form, and choked back the tears.

It had been a week since the incident. A week since Bad stilled in his arms, never to wake up ever again. A week since an easily avoidable death had occurred. A week since his best friend perished because of _him_.

A frustrated whimper escaped his throat, and the tears threatened to fall a second time. If only _he_ had gone instead. Then he would be in that better place, and Bad could have survived.

But he took back that thought as soon as it crossed his mind. He didn't- no, he _couldn't_ wish this upon anyone else. He didn't want Bad to have had to go through this grief; he would have been devastated.

Yet, then again, so was he.

There was no escaping the pain.

But would he rather the _physical_ , or the _emotional_? Did... bleeding out in the cold feel more appealing? Did he wish that it was him instead?

The feelings were confused, and extremely conflicted. Anger burned his chest, but the denial had his head spinning. He hugged himself just that little bit tighter, sinking further into the couch. The place from which he had first realised that nothing would be the same ever again. The place that he hadn't left in what could have been days. 

When had he last eaten? Was he even hydrated anymore? How long had it been since he had washed himself properly?

Bad would have been so disappointed, wouldn't he? He had always nagged at Skeppy to take better care of himself, and it seemed evident that the gentle chastisement had been completely justified. Skeppy was _useless_ without him, wasn't he? He could feel himself starting to choke a third time. _Why did this have to hurt so much?_

Unbeknownst to himself and the rest of the world, he had an answer.

He knew that he was clinging onto the pain; it was the only thing grounding him to reality, and reaffirmed the idea that he cared; he _knew_ that he did, but he feared the apathy. The eventual acceptance. Would he have been a bad person, if he were to somehow move on?

All of a sudden, the doorbell started to ring. The sound alone made him sick. There always used to be a hint of excitement when opening the door; afterall, who could be on the other side? It was anyone's guess.

Now, Skeppy had only one guess; that it wasn't Bad, and he didn't want to answer. But when it rang a second time, he knew he had no choice.

So, he stood up reluctantly, and trudged his way towards the door. His strides were slow and tired, either from his lack of interest or his lack of sleep. Maybe even both. His hand hovered over the handle for a second, and silently, he stared at his own reflection in the metal. _He_ was a mess, his _house_ was a mess. Heck, his whole _life_ was a mess.

But it was only fair for deciding to stop functioning for an entire week. If he was going to be judged, so be it.

Hesitantly, he pushed down the handle bar to his right, and slowly pulled the door open. Immediately, his gaze faltered upwards; his visitor was _significantly_ taller than he was.

"Dream..?" he stared directly into the taunting smile painted onto his mask, and felt an anger rise within him. Behind it was no glee, or joy, or happiness; Skeppy could tell. But the plastered smirk felt like a slap in the face.

Dream heaved a sigh, though not making a single advancement. George and Sapnap stood behind him, but he had already forgotten to address. They were Bad's _other_ friends; ones that he had little to no interest in talking to. Had they even met properly before? So much for first impressions.

"May we come in?"

 _'No'_ was not an option. Without another word, he stepped away from the door and retreated back to the couch, simply opting to curl in on himself, the way he had been doing before their arrival. Dream, George and Sapnap shared a look, before stepping in as well. George made sure to shut the door behind them.

"We... just heard about what happened..." Sapnap started, taking a seat on the armrest of the couch. "And we came here as soon as we could..."

"I'm so, so sorry for your loss, Skeppy..." Dream spoke with a sigh as he sat down next to the aforementioned man. Gently, he placed a hand on his shoulder. "How are you holding up? We... came to check up on you, make sure you're alright-"

"Alright?" Skeppy laughed bitterly. "I'm absolutely _perfect_ , knowing that my best friend in the entire freaking world is _dead_!" He spat, his breath hitching and choking. "And... and he's dead because... of _me_..."

"Hey" George spoke from right behind them. "This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault."

"He's right, Skeppy..." Sapnap added. "There's no point in pinning this on yourself-"

"But _I_ was the one who sent him there!" Skeppy retorted, with more force behind his words. "If _I_ had gone instead, like I was _supposed_ to, none of this would have happened..." he paused to sniffle, quickly drying a stray tear as it threatened to escape. "Or, better yet, if we had just _waited_ a day..."

"There's no point in lamenting over the _what if'_ s, Skeppy..." Dream spoke with a solemn tone. "We need to start thinking about the _what now'_ s."

Skeppy gritted his teeth. "Easy for you to say..."

Dream paused in a thoughtful moment, before simply sighing in response. Quietly, he took his mask off. And for the first time ever, at least to his knowledge, Skeppy was able to see Dream's face. His eyes were glazed over with tears, and this juggernaut of a man was suddenly vulnerable.

"Believe me, it's not..." he spoke once again, though this time it _felt_ more loving. More _real._ "We aren't here to tell you to move on, or that it's in the past, because it's not. We're in the present, and I understand that. I really do. You need time, and you need space. I'll give that to you, without a second thought. But I want you to know that you are not alone. All I ask is that you take care of yourself. If not for us, if not even for yourself, then at least for _him_."

"Bad was our friend too, even if we weren't nearly as close..." George sighed. "But I knew him well enough to know for certain that _this_ isn't what he would have wanted for you. No matter what the situation was, no matter what you both did and didn't know, _I_ know that Bad doesn't hold you accountable for anything that may have happened."

"And, if nothing else, the least we could do is give him a peaceful afterlife, right?" Sapnap said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. "He did so much for all of us. He took care of us, and he cared for us when it felt like no one else would. Wouldn't it make him happy if he... y'know... knew that he left an impact? Because, this _isn't_ where his story should end."

"Yeah" Dream smiled, reassuring, yet pained. "We can't hold onto the void he left behind. Not when there was so much love, so many memories to take its place... I promise you, Skeppy, that we can get through this... _You_ can get through this... and we're willing to stand by your side as we do."

Skeppy fell silent. At some point, he may have stopped listening. Words felt like babble with no meaning.

There were so many thoughts rushing through his mind. So many ways to turn their sentiment on its head, and ruin the moment completely. But soon, he could feel an arm wrap itself around his body, and all of a sudden, those thoughts were _gone_.

Dream held him now; a single hand on his shoulder, simply having pulled him closer. Then, George joined in, arms wrapped around his neck from behind, his chin resting in his unkempt hair. Sapnap followed soon after, coming closer to hug him from the side. And, after a moment of hesitation, Skeppy let himself melt into the newfound warmth. He returned the gesture with the gratitude he didn't even know he had.

This embrace was _different;_ it wasn't half as warm as Bad's, that much was undeniable. It simply wasn't the same, and he had accepted that fact. After all that had happened, nothing would _ever_ be the same.

But now, he wasn't half as cold as he was a moment ago.

And for the first time in that agonising week, Skeppy wasn't alone. He didn't feel isolated by the cruelty of the universe, being laughed at by an audience that he couldn't quite see. And something told him that he was being smiled upon, by the well wishers of the afterlife. At the end of it all, he would be fine.

_"He would have wanted this."_

A single thought that would have kept them going. A reason to keep the memories alive for the years to come. A sign that he had what it took to get through whatever _this_ was.

In his greatest moment of weakness, he had mustered up the strength it took to shed no tears. For his sake.


End file.
